


Vulnerable Galaxy

by bodhirookandor



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 14:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11232483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodhirookandor/pseuds/bodhirookandor
Summary: Alternative title: Recovery is hardHe doesn’t sleep. Bodhi’s not sure how he’s been able to keep it from the other’s for so long, but he can’t do it.





	Vulnerable Galaxy

**Author's Note:**

> For bodhicassian week wooo! This is lowkey sad so I hope y'all ready for that lmao.

He doesn’t sleep. Bodhi’s not sure how he’s been able to keep it from the other’s for so long, but he can’t do it. Not when his nightmares are fraught with tentacled monsters and the accusing faces of all the people he’d let down. How can he sleep when he can still hear the pained wail of his dying planet, felt it ripping in two as though he himself were? How could he sleep when his rage makes him too hot one minute and too cold the next? How can he sleep?

* * *

 

He’s the last one to be released from the hospital, shortly after Chirrut (who’d kriffing  _died_  and long after Cassian). Too many burns, too much damage to his ears, his right arm a total loss. Bodhi throws up the first time they list his injuries, the words floating above the page, as their muffled words reach his damaged ears. It takes him months to be able to at least somewhat hear words with assistance and even more months to get used to his arm. 

They hand him a medal after he makes it out of medical, meaningless praise spilling from their mouths.

“You did wonderful,” they say, eyes sharp and assessing, “the galaxy thanks you for your service.” Bodhi wonders if it’d be inappropriate to ask how NiJedha would thank him. What with being torn apart an all, but he stays quiet. He takes the medal, smiles without letting it touch his eyes, and throws it away from him the minute he enters his room. 

Cassian doesn’t say anything about it. Bodhi’s grateful.

* * *

 

He’s not sure when it started-him being unable to sleep. He exists on a perpetual state of exhaustion, mind constantly teetering along the edge of collapse. Bodhi’s used to it though; had grown used to it the minute he’d become a part of the Empire. Maybe it’s divine retribution. Maybe it’s the Force finally punishing him for all that he’d done.

He spends his days cautiously avoiding everyone else, working on ships and going to his check ups. The doctor recommends he talks to the base’s therapist, eyes furrowed in concern. Bodhi nods, takes the offered card and throws it in the trash on his way out. 

He’s not sure he’s ready for that just yet.

He spends his nights in front of the hangar-the sight of his ship filling him with a sort of comfort he can not describe. He stares at the ship, slowly reminding himself that none of this is a dream, that everything that happened did and he needs to move on with that fact. That he’d be able to start healing if he just turned around and looked  _up_.

Bodhi’s not sure how long it’d been since he last looked up at the night sky.

* * *

 

Cassian finds him one night, sitting in front of his ship, eyes vacant and body shivering. Bodhi flinches hard at the blanket wrapped around him, fingers shaking as he wipes his face to hide the tears. Cassian doesn’t say anything about that either and Bodhi can barely breathe around his gratitude.

He moves over slightly, a silent invitation for the other man to join him. Cassian does, sitting himself down with a slight grimace, his bad knee stretched out in front of him. 

They don’t speak, Cassian seemingly content to merely sit there with him. For reasons that Bodhi can’t fathom. Bodhi doesn’t say anything, his gaze alternating between the ship and the other man. He tries to be discrete, although by the growing smile on Cassian’s face, he doesn’t succeed. 

They stay like that for the rest of the night and Bodhi’s not sure when he’d felt more rested. 

* * *

 

It’s on night six of finding Cassian in his spot that Bodhi decides to say something. He’d let the other man sit with him all those nights, steadily ignoring the warmth that spread across his chest each time he sees him. He ignores the way his nightmares (so visceral, so clingy) become muted in the other man’s presence. He ignores and ignores and ignores because Bodhi knows what acknowledging the truth means and didn’t he learn his lesson a while ago? Didn’t he learn that depending on someone else,  _trusting_  someone else only brought him pain?

He swallows, gaze ahead of him.

“Why?” Why have you been sitting with me all these nights? Why don’t you say anything? Why do you  _care_? 

Cassian looks at him for a long moment, the heat of his gaze demanding Bodhi’s complete attention. He turns, staring straight at the other man, jaw clenched and fingers tapping along his wrist.

“Why?” He repeats, voice hoarse. Cassian doesn’t answer, and Bodhi doesn’t look away. They sit like that for the rest of the night. Bodhi doesn’t mind.

* * *

 

Night eight, Cassian interlocks their fingers, gaze still turned towards the shimmering stars. Bodhi, facing the hangar, squeezes back.

* * *

 

Cassian finally says something on the fifteenth night. Bodhi had gotten to their spot first, back resolutely turned away from the galaxy above him. He’s shaking, mind still caught in his nightmare, mouthing the words he’d imprinted into his being.

“I’m Bodhi Rook of NiJedha. I’m the pilot. I have a message. I’m telling the  _truth_.” He rocks, hands fisted in his hair as the words form on his lips like a prayer, as though integral to his entire being. 

And it is in a sense, a piece of him that’s still so very frayed and raw. A piece of him that hisses and moans, that snarls his truth and reminds him so very much of the boy he’d once been. Before he sold his soul to save his family.

Hands slowly wrap around his own, detangling them from his hair and Bodhi almost sags with exhaustion. He knows these hands, felt them around his own for days, has tried to memorize each and every groove each night. He tries to swallow down the sobs in his chest, tries to stamp down the wave of grief and gratitude that fills his being. But he looks up and catches Cassian’s eyes and almost drowns in the emotion bursting from them.

“Bodhi,” Cassian breathes, breath warm against Bodhi’s face, “you’re Bodhi Rook of NiJedha. You’re the pilot. I believe you,  _I believe you_.” And Cassian sounds so earnest, so honest and Bodhi can’t help the small sob that escapes his mouth. 

“Bodhi,” Cassian whispers, voice thick with tears? As he softly places a kiss on Bodhi’s fingers, one by one by one. It’s soft, a simple press of lips against his skin, but Bodhi feels heat filling his being, feels it ignite his veins and travel into his heart. 

“Bodhi,” Cassian repeats stronger and more sure of himself. His hands frame Bodhi’s face, eyes reflecting the galaxy behind them. “breathe with me.”  And he does, eyes never leaving the man in front of him. 

* * *

 

Sometimes Cassian loses himself, mind wandering away as he gazes up at the sky. He drifts, gaze firmly locked ahead and Bodhi understands that no amount of coaxing will help him out of it. That it takes time for him to come back.

Other times Cassian tucks in on himself, still very away (perhaps  _too_  aware) of the environment around them. He’s tense the entire night, eyes flickering in each direction, hand holding onto his blaster to protect him. 

Once in a while, Bodhi finds Cassian staring straight up, eyes glistening with tears and mouth murmuring the names of loved ones he’d lost. On those nights, when grief threatens to overwhelm Cassian, Bodhi wraps the other man in a hug, gaze resolutely on him and hums the songs of his people. Sometimes, Cassian joins in, Festian floating in the air as he teaches Bodhi the songs of  _his_  people. 

* * *

 

They don’t speak about it. They don’t speak about a lot of things. But Bodhi finds that he’s okay with that, finds that he’s perfectly content to just sit with the other man, fingers intertwined as he turns his back towards the sky and Cassian faces it. It works for him.

Until it doesn’t.

The night begins like any other. Bodhi facing the hangar and Cassian facing the night sky. It’s quiet for a minute, two, and then Bodhi finds himself talking, words streaming out of his mouth without rhyme or reason. It feels nice though, to see Cassian turn to him, mouth quirked up in a half smile as he listens to Bodhi ramble about everything and nothing. Bodhi has no idea what he’s saying, mind caught up in the way that Cassian’s face is illuminated by starlight, the way the wind softly pushes his hair. He’s enraptured by the curling of the man’s lips, the way he bites them to stop from laughing too loudly.

Bodhi kisses him, presses his lips against the other man’s and revels in the feel of his lips for a solid second. Cassian moves back a second later, eyes open in shock and staring at him in a way that has Bodhi tucking in on himself.

Cassian doesn’t say anything, merely shakes his head at Bodhi’s attempted apology and leaves. Bodhi watches him go.

* * *

 

Cassian doesn’t return and Bodhi understands. He stares at his spot- _their spot_  and walks away. 

* * *

 

He sees him sometimes, in the hallway or in the cafeteria. Sometimes their eyes meet, but Bodhi quickly turns away. He doesn’t acknowledge the pain in his chest at the sight of the other man, refuses to acknowledge the fact that his nightmares get worse. They don’t impede on his job and so it doesn’t matter.

Until it does.

Cassian is the one that catches him in the throws of a nightmare. He’d collapsed on the side of his ship, shaking with exhaustion and promising himself a bit of shuteye, promising himself that he’d wake up before a nightmare. It didn’t happen and Cassian tries to wake him only to get punched in the nose.

Bodhi wakes to Cassian holding his bleeding nose and tries to apologize. The other man shakes his head and sighs, gently sitting down in front of him. Bodhi doesn’t speak for a moment, fingers tapping on the inside of his wrist.

“Sometimes I hear NiJedha’s screams. Feel it sometimes too,” Bodhi says, watching as Cassian closes his eyes in grief. The other man nods, hand reached out to squeeze his own and Bodhi can’t help but say everything, breathe the words that festered in his heart, give voice to the fears that plagued him since he’d been old enough to understand what  _loss_ meant. The hand in his own is so  _warm_ , so familiar that Bodhi can’t help but interlace their fingers.

_Why did you leave? Why are you here? Why? Why? Why?_

Cassian doesn’t say anything, merely lets Bodhi air out his worries, his fears and trauma. He says nothing as he rises, eyebrow raised and hand outstretched. Bodhi swallows and nods, unsurprised when they stop in front of the therapists door.

“It helps?” He can’t help but ask, voice small and fragile like broken glass

“It helps,” Cassian repeats and Bodhi nods, closing the door behind him as he enters the room.

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Bodhi looks up at the night sky and sobs with no one around to witness him.

* * *

 

He goes back to the spot two weeks later. Head tilted down and fingers curling and uncurling. He’s not sure why he’s so surprised to see Cassian there, but he is. The other man is sitting like he’d been there all along, head tilted up to stare at the night sky. He stands once he sees him approaching though, eyes so very open and Bodhi has to swallow down the emotions that bubble up in his throat.

_Why? Why? Why?_

They say nothing, merely stare at each other with a hunger that neither of them knew they possessed. Bodhi swallows again and watches as Cassian’s jaw twitches. He’s nervous, just as Bodhi is.

Cassian opens his mouth and the closes it, shaking his head and going to walk away. 

_Don’t leave. Don’t leave. **Don’t leave**._

Cassian stops, and only then does Bodhi realize he’d shouted the last phrase. He turns to look at him, feigning apathy but Bodhi knows. Cassian has never been good at concealing himself. 

“Why?” Is all he can say, that and don’t leave me, please. But Bodhi refuses to repeat that again.

“Why?” He asks again when Cassian doesn’t say anything. Bodhi walks closer, stopping only when he’s right in front of the other man. He breathes, fingers twitching with a want so deep it almost takes his breath away.

_Why? Why? Why?_

_“_ You kissed me,” Cassian begins, eyes deep and dark like the recesses of space, “you kissed me and I didn’t know if I had the strength-” He cuts himself off and laughs, shaking his head with frustration.

“If you had the strength?” Cassian doesn’t answer, merely shakes his head and Bodhi’s clenches his teeth.

“Tell me to go, Cassian. Tell me to leave you alone and I will.” Cassian doesn’t say anything though, merely stares at him with an intensity that Bodhi’s never seen from him before. He moves closer to him and rests his forehead against his own. They stay like that for a second, or maybe a minute, or an hour. Bodhi’s not sure. Time slides away off his frame and falls to the floor and Bodhi lets himself be in that moment.

Cassian kisses him, hungry and biting, soft and soothing; emotions colliding and collapsing and expanding, burning hot and freezing in every space Cassian touches. He moans, pressing deeper and deeper, plunging into the abyss until it’s just him and Cassian. Bodhi and Cassian.

They pull apart a moment later, neither of them moving far away from the other.

“I don’t want you to leave me alone, Bodhi Rook. Not ever.” Cassian says in the space between their lips and Bodhi nods once, eyes wide. It’s a promise, a dream that the two of them will hold to. It’s unrealistic but Bodhi and Cassian find that they don’t much care in that moment.  


End file.
